Leaving the War Popular Violence and Judicial Repression of ‘unpatriotic’ behaviour in Belgium (1918–1921)

Abstract

After four years of occupation, Belgium emerged ruined at the end of the Great War. The King returned from Yser, leading the army and acclaimed by the population. In contrast, the government and the exiles came back discreetly and the absence of the dead was felt strongly. Part of the population felt itself to be the victim of the occupation and sought revenge: shop windows were broken and houses sacked, men were molested and women's heads shaven. Manufacturers who had closed their businesses sought the severe repression of those who had pursued their activities. Journalists who had stopped writing called for harsh treatment of the newspapers that submitted to German censorship. A fraction of the population stigmatised those who profited from the occupation and demanded justice. In 1918, Belgium was already confronted with problems that most European countries only discovered at the end of the Second World War. How does one move on from a war of occupation? How does one reconstruct a state weakened by occupation? How does one handle collective vengeance and respond to calls for justice? This article will study successively the wave of ‘popular’ violence accompanying the country's liberation in November and December 1918 and the state's answer through the judiciary repression of collaboration with the enemy conducted between 1919 and 1921, mainly by military and civil tribunals.

Notes

[34] X.Rousseaux, M.S. Dupont-Bouchat, C.Vael (eds.), Révolutions et Justice pénale en Europe (178–1830). Modèles français et traditions nationales, Paris, L'Harmattan, 1999.

[1] For example, the Catholic Brussels newspaper, La Libre Belgique, dedicates 8% of its short news items to street brawls, pillaging or the burning of ‘Boche houses’, etc.

[2] This observation, based on the press, is confirmed by the Antwerp police archives: not only is most of the violence directed at war profiteers but, in addition to this, the acts of violence against them are more violent (the people are actually attacked) than those against activists (the population contents itself with smashing a few windows). Our thanks go to Antoon Vrints for this information.

[3] On 26 March 1918, La Nation Belge, which is published in Paris, gives an account of manifestations of anger in Brussels against the ‘embochés’, in other words the activists hated by the newspaper, booed during one of their meetings; while on 23 April 1918, the same newspaper reports acts of violence committed in the province of Liège against economic collaborators. The same phenomenon can be observed during the Second World War. Fabrice Virgili, for instance, proved that the shaving of women's heads in France started as of 1943, well before liberation commenced in September 1944. Cf. F. Virgili, La France ‘virile’. Des femmes tondues à la libération, Paris, Payot, 2001.

[4] Le Peuple, Brussels, 21 November 1918, p. 2. Same type of information in Le Matin, Antwerp, 21 November 1918, p. 1.

[5] La Libre Belgique, Brussels, 30 November 1918, p. 2.

[6] L'Étoile Belge, Brussels, 22 November 1918, p. 2; Gazet van Antwerpen, 26 November 1918, p. 2; Gazette de Liège, Liège, 27 November 1918, p. 2; La Flandre libérale, Grand, 3 December 1918, p. 1.

[7] On the subject of Liège, La Libre Belgique, 30 November 1918, p. 2 talks about five women ‘whose relationships with the Germans caused a scandal … had their heads completely shaved’. But La Meuse, 29 November 1918, p. 2 only refers to two women. One week earlier, Le Peuple, 21 November 1918, p. 1, laconically points out that a ‘woman had her hair cut off’.

[8] Le Peuple, 22 November 1918, p. 1.

[9] That is, 19 November 1918.

[10] L'Étoile Belge, Brussels, 21 November 1918, p. 2.

[11] For example, L'Étoile Belge, Brussels, 25 November 1918, p. 2.

[12] L'Étoile Belge, 28 July 1920, p. 4.

[13] In 1919, a similar case occured in Liège: proceedings were brought against a hairdresser who had wrongfully exposed a collaborator to public condemnation. The Gazette de Liège, 5 May 1919, p. 2, ran an ironic headline: A pricey haircut!

[14] In 1921, Adèle B. instituted proceedings against the town of Verviers and claimed damages. For, on 25 November 1918, a group that wanted to stigmatise her behaviour during the war had shaved off her hair. But the court, having noted that it was not an insurrectional group but rather a jubilant crowd and that, furthermore, Adèle B. had not accepted the assistance of the police, dismissed her case (Cf. Gazette de Liège, 11 March 1921, p. 2).

[15] J.-Y. Le Naour, Misères et tourments de la chair durant la Grande Guerre. Les mœurs sexuelles des Français, 1914–1918, Paris, Aubier, 2002, p. 157. The idea that the shorn woman could only be a prostitute is deeply entrenched. Thus, at the start of the occupation, in Brussels, there were several angry crowd gatherings around brothels to denounce these premises, frequented by German soldiers, and the opprobrium that surrounds the prostitute, ‘traitress to the fatherland’ would endure throughout the entire war. Cf. B. Majerus, ‘La prostitution à Bruxelles pendant la Grande Guerre: contrôle et pratique’, Crime, Histoire & Société, 7:1 (2003), pp. 11–13.

[16] F. Virgili, ‘Les tontes de la Libération en France’, in F. Rouquet & D. Voldman, dir., Identités féminines et violences politiques, Paris, CNRS, 1995 (cahiers de l'IHTP, n° 31)…, pp. 53–65.

[17] Women represent no more than 10% of cases of collaboration. The majority of them were charged with denunciation and judged before the military of civil Criminal Courts. For example, of the 1076 trials reported in La Nation Belge, only 82 involved women, of which 62 were for denunciation, 9 for supplying the enemy, 8 for espionage and 3 for having provided asylum for German soldiers. These women are generally described as ‘ignoble shrews’ or women of ‘light morals’, without further comment.

[18] J.-Y. Le Naour, Misères et tourments de la chair…, op. cit., 2002, pp. 294–95.

[19] Thus, the situation in Brussels degenerated entirely as of 18 November, whereas in Liège, it took until 27 November 1918.

[20] As recounted in a series of letters from soldiers that were written at the front and are now kept in the Royal Army and Military History Museum (MRA). For instance, Lieutenant Colonel De Posch wrote in 1917: ‘Those I pity the most are our unfortunate compatriots who have stayed in the country and who must be having a very hard life now’ (Brussels, MRA, Fonds Personnalia 1914–1918, Lt-C. De Posch, letter dated 3 August 1917).

[21] Indeed, the absence of suspicion regarding occupied Belgium does not signify the absence of fantasy. Belgian soldiers, just like any soldier at the front, were deprived of female presence, and at the same time unable to watch over the women. This situation was inevitably to arouse countless fantasies among the majority of soldiers: nurses and war matrons are perceived simultaneously as maternal angels and prostitutes (on this subject, see J.-Y. Le Naour, op. cit., 2002). But the particular situation of Belgian soldiers was to provoke contradictory feelings: feelings both of fear that their family would be martyrised (by the enemy), guilt at not being able to defend their family (at the hands of the enemy) and fear of being betrayed by their wife (with the enemy).

[22] Le Matin, Antwerp, 21 November 1918, p. 1.

[23] La Meuse, Liège, 28 November 1918, p. 2.

[24] Le Bulletin liégeois, Liège, 26 November 1918, p. 2; Gazette de Liège, Liège, 29 November 1918, p. 2.

[25] The contrast with the postwar period following the Second World War, when the head-shaving of women and other so-called popular acts of violence no longer appeared to be an embarrassing subject, is striking.

[26] Cf. Gazette de Liège, 28 November 1918, p. 2, points out that houses with Boche leanings were being destroyed, and that inns, butchers' shops, bakeries etc. were being attacked. These outbursts are confirmed by the judicial archives of the General Prosecutor's Office of Liège. Thus, for example, the PDT couple, accused by A.P. for having denounced her to the Germans and for reselling food from the National Committee (this was in fact a neighbourhood quarrel that ends up being dismissed from court), had their house destroyed on 28 November 1918 and the wife's head was shorn. Cf. Liège, State Archives in Liège, Parquet général, War 14–18, Case PDT-LRX, box 9, cross-examination of V. PDT of 3 December 1920)

[27] Some of them would be arrested by English or Canadian troops! More of them would be arrested by the Belgian military police. For the arrests in Liège, see: Gazette de Liège, 27 November 1918, p. 2.

[28] Cf. La Meuse, Liège, 2 December 1918, p. 2.

[29] Extract from the Journal de Huy, used by the Gazette de Liège, Liège, 6 December 1918, p. 2. The word ‘emboché’ means ‘german sympathiser’.

[30] Gazette de Liège, Liège, 8 November 1919, p. 5.

[31] In fact, E.D., who was not a pork but a horse butcher, was arrested on 27 November 1918 and prosecuted at the criminal court for trafficking with the enemy. But is this the same person? E.D., horse merchant, born in 1886, was prosecuted for horse trafficking with the enemy (Art. 115 of the Penal Code). Arrested and imprisoned on 27 November 1918, his arrest warrant is dated 4 December 1918. The case returned to the criminal court. But in his record no mention is made either of the death of two people or of his trial in 1919. On the other hand, a Liège police report dated 16 January 1919 indicates that the house of L.D. (also a horse merchant, born in 1859) was looted on 26 November 1918. Cf. Liège, State Archives in Liège, Parquet Général, War 14–18, Case E.D., box 26, doc. 10 bis.

[32] The nickname of the Belgian soldiers in the First World War.

[33] La Nation Belge, Brussels, 16 August 1919, p. 1.

[35] Statistique judiciaire de la Belgique 1919, Bruxelles, Veuve Ferdinand Larcier-Albert Dewit, 1922, Statistique judiciaire de la Belgique 1920, Brussels, Veuve Ferdinand Larcier-Albert Dewit, 1924. See X. Rousseaux & A. Tixhon, ‘Les statistiques judiciaires belges (1830–2002)’, in D. Heirbaut, X. Rousseaux & , K.Velle, eds, Politieke en sociale geschiedenis van België 1830 tot heden. Histoire politique et sociale de la justice en Belgique, de 1830 à nos jours), Bruges, La Charte-Die Keure, 2004, pp. 163–183.

[36] M. Mignot, La répression de l'incivisme après la première guerre mondiale à travers la presse francophone bruxellois (1918–1921), Louvain-la-Neuve, 2002 (UCL, MA in history dissertation, unpublished). M. Deckers, Van verraders tot martelaars, de strafrechtelijke repressie van activisme (1918–1921), Leuven, 1998 (KU Leuven, MA in history dissertation, unpublished).

[37] A.F. Degeye, Répression des collaborations et ‘activisme wallon’: conséquences de la première guerre mondiale dans la province de Namur, Louvain-La-Neuve, janvier 1999 (UCL, MA in history dissertation, unpublished); C.Trinteler, La répression de la collaboration dans le sud de la province du Luxembourg après la première guerre mondiale. L'activité de la cour d'assises d'Arlon (1919–1929), Louvain-la-Neuve, September 2000 (UCL, MA in history dissertation, unpublished).

[38] L.Huyse, ‘The criminal justice system as a political actor in regime transitions: the case of Belgium, 1944–1950’, in I. Deak, J.T. Gross and T. Judt, eds, The Politics of Retribution in Europe. World War II and Its Aftermath, Princeton, 2000, pp. 157–72.

[39] S. De Wilde, De bestraffing van het activisme in de rijksadministratie (1918–1921), Louvain, 2002 (KU Leuven, MA in history dissertation, unpubished).

[40] Annales Parlementaires, Chambre des Représentants, sessions ordinaires, 1921, pp. 336 and p. 357, 18 and 25 January 1921.

[41] Brussels, General State Archives (AGR) Archives Prosper Poullet, 228.

[42] L. Huyse & S. Dhondt, La répression des collaborations 1942–1952. Un passé toujours présent, Bruxelles, Centre de recherche et d'information socio-politiques, 1993; J. Gotovitch & C. Kesteloot, eds, Collaboration et répression, un passé qui résiste, Bruxelles, Labor, 2002.